


healing

by esmeanne



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, F/M, domestic abuse mention, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 12:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18250151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esmeanne/pseuds/esmeanne
Summary: from the tumblr prompt: Esme being triggered by something seemingly insignificant.





	healing

It was 1921. She’d been living with the Cullen boys for a little less than two months. It had been difficult in some ways- her thirst consumed her at times. The boys did their best to help, taking her out to hunt as often as she needed it but the thirst lingered. They promised that it would get easier and she found herself believing their words.

In other ways, her time with them was easier than she ever could have anticipated. Edward was sweet. Sad at times but funny as well. He made her laugh, played music to lift her spirits. Carlisle was kind, gentle. He was everything she remembered him to be from 1911 and more. He was careful with her despite the fact that she hadn’t disclosed her past to him yet.

She and Carlisle had been playing chess, the old vampire incredibly patient with her as he taught her to play. She’d yet to beat him but that didn’t surprise her. Carlisle had a few hundred years of experience on her paired with his intelligence? She’d never beat him.

“Check mate.” Carlisle said in that soft voice he used with her, the one that made her still heart flutter.

Esme laughed softly, handing him her king. “You win again.”

“You’ll beat me one day.” He assured her with a smile.

“I don’t see myself outsmarting a nearly 300 year old doctor.”

“That’s a misconception many have about the game of chess. It has nothing to do with intellect. Chess is about strategy, about being more creative than your opponent.” He explained. “And you, my dear, are the most crafty woman I’ve ever met. You’ll beat me in no time.”

Esme smiled to herself as she leaned forward to help him reset the board. Just as she extended her hand to retrieve her captured queen, she heard the front door open and Edward’s scent wafted into the room. She lifted her head to look toward the doorway of Carlisle’s study, waiting for the boy to come join them.

She heard him moving about the foyer of the house and then she heard the thump of his boots landing against the wooden floor.

At that sound, she found herself jumping from her chair, practically launching herself back against the wall. She hit the surface so hard that she cracked the drywall, the chair that had been flung backward in her haste laid in pieces of the floor. She clutched at her skirt in fear, her fingers tearing through the fabric.

She heard her new friends’ voices speaking her name, assuring her that she was safe. They sounded so far away. Esme closed her eyes and tried to push the memory of her husband’s work boots hitting the floor of their little house, tried to forget how her heart had raced as his footsteps approached her, forget the things he’d do to her after a day of work.

“Don’t touch her.” Came Edward’s voice from what sounded like miles away.

She felt a gentle hand on her arm, the skin cold and smooth instead of the hot, rough touch she was so accustomed to.

Esme hesitantly opened her eyes and found herself face to face with Carlisle. Concern shined in his golden eyes as his hand moved slowly up and down her arm.

“You’re safe, Esme.” Carlisle promised her. “You’re at home with me and Edward.”

Esme let out a shaking breath that she didn’t need, her eyes darting from Carlisle to Edward to the broken chair. “I’m sorry.” She choked out.

Carlisle shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I’m sorry.” Edward said from the doorway having heard her from her thoughts why the his boots hitting the floor had triggered her. He was trying his best to keep his voice calm but she could see the rage behind his eyes.

“You didn’t do anything, Edward. I should be better than this.”

“Hey, no,” Carlisle said, pulling her attention back to him. “you’re doing an amazing job of adjusting to all of this. I cannot imagine what you’ve been through but you’re healing every day.”

Esme hesitated before carefully untangling her fingers from her skirt. She pushed herself away from the wall.

“I’m going to change my skirt. Perhaps we could play another game when I return?” She all but whispered.

“That sounds wonderful.” Carlisle replied, stepping aside.

“I’ll play winner.” Edward said as he took a seat on the small sofa, smiling reassuringly at Esme as she headed for the doorway.

Before she left the room, Esme reached out to rest her hand over Edward’s on the arm of the sofa. She smiled just slightly and then pulled her hand away to slip out of the room.


End file.
